


thank you. next.

by autoheart



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Getting Together, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoheart/pseuds/autoheart
Summary: Nothing good could ever come out of a break up. Right?





	thank you. next.

Merlin thought he had debunked most of the myths of life. Santa, clearly, was a myth. The tooth fairy, the Easter bunny, leprechauns, dragons, wizards, trolls, the mothman, he knew were not real. He thought he lived in a perfect state of adulterated clarity, all-knowing of what was real and what was construct. But there was one last myth that had yet to be broken for him, and now it was crashing down around him all to suddenly. The last great myth to be debunked for Merlin Emrys was that of the amicable breakup. He had truly believed it was possible, that he would be able to remain friends with Steven after he moved his things out of the flat and moved on.

What a load of shit that was.

 

“Steven. You have to stop calling me,” Merlin sighed, squinted at the brightness of his phone screen in the darkness. Five am. At least it was properly morning this time around.

“There’s no one else for me to talk to about this,” Steven said, his voice thick with tears.

“I am literally the last person you should talk to about this,” Merlin groaned. “You can’t talk to me _about_ me.”

“Then who _can_ I talk about this? You’re the only one who knows the whole story,” Steve stuttered.

“Yes, because I am on the inside of it. Talk to a therapist, Steve. Call your mom. _Don’t_ call _me.”_

“I miss you.”

Merlin was silent. What could he say to that? He wasn’t upset about the break up. He was relieved, and he felt terrible to admit it. There was nothing wrong with Steve. It just got to a point where he would rather see his friends than go home and spend time with his boyfriend and all images of his future just… didn’t include Steve. It seemed sign enough that it was time to call it quits. And it didn’t hurt for him. But Steven had been blindsided, and Merlin had broken his heart.  At first, he had tried to be empathetic and kind and understanding, because he had never thought himself capable of breaking someone else’s heart, only of having his own broken, and the fact that this relationship proved otherwise made him feel awful. At first. Now, if he was being honest, he found it rather annoying.

“I’m sorry, Steven. Don’t,” Merlin drew in a tired breath, “don’t call me again. Not for a long time. Goodbye, Steve.”

“I love you.”

“Goodbye, Steven.”

He hit the call end button. There was no hope of going back to sleep, not when he had to be up for work in two hours. He would simply lie there and calculate the minutes he had left to get a few moments of sleep in before his alarm went off, which was worse than just getting up now. He could go to the gym, or make a proper breakfast, but his bed was warm, and all he truly wanted to do was tell someone how annoyed he was. He only knew one person who would be up this early in the morning, as he only had one friend that was bonafide gym rat, so he shot him a text.

 

M: He’s called me again. I’m considering changed my number.

M: Or I could just block him but that seems so dramatic.

 

Instead of getting a text in return, his phone lit up with another call. This time, however, he was relieved.

 

“Blocking him is dramatic but changing your number isn’t?” Arthur said in lieu of hello, his breathing heavy. If Merlin had to guess based off the methodical thumping he heard in the background, he was on the treadmill.

“Well, if I changed my number, at least he wouldn’t send texts and think I’ve not read them. They’d just go to someone new,” Merlin explained.

“That’s a terrible reason to change your number, _Mer_ lin. Just bite the bullet and block him. If you don’t, I’ll take your phone and do it for you,” Arthur threatened.

“You don’t even know my passcode,” Merlin laughed.

“Oh, you’re not as mysterious as you think you are. It’s your mum’s name. H-U-N-I-T-H. Has been since school,” Arthur replied.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Maybe he was predictable, but it annoyed him that Arthur had been able to guess. Sure, he had known him since they were kids, but they went a good five years without talking before reconnecting about two years back. And even after all this time, Arthur had him on lock.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Arthur said, his breathing returning to normal and the thumping in the background having stopped.

“I wasn’t.”

“You _were.”_

“What are you doing after work?” Merlin asked, smiling at the phone.

“Getting a drink with you, apparently.”

“Stop predicting what I’m going to say,” Merlin whined.

“But it’s so easy,” Arthur said, drawing out the last word teasingly.  

“Whatever. Meet me at seven at-“

“At the Red Lion, yeah,” Arthur finished.

“At least _pretend_ this conversation is even worth having and you wouldn’t have shown up there regardless of whether I called you or not,” Merlin groaned. It was too early for this, too early for Arthur, he decided.

“But you’re funny when you’re worked up,” Arthur replied, a smile evident in his voice.

“You’re so annoying.”

“I make a point to be. See you at seven, mate,” Arthur said, and hung up the phone before Merlin could squeeze another word in.

 

So he lay in bed for thirty more minutes, still annoyed but in a much more pleasant way. Steven had hated Arthur. He hated the way Merlin and Arthur spoke to each other with such an easy banter, something he and Merlin had never been able to achieve. It didn’t matter to him when Merlin explained of course it was easy, he had known Arthur for nearly two decades. They met when they were seven, for fucksake, you don’t know someone that long without building some sort of rapport. But whenever Merlin pointed that out, they ended up in a yelling match.

He supposed it didn’t help that Arthur moved back to town two years into his and Steve’s relationship, and that they fell back into everything so quickly. He went from having all the time in the world to laze about at home to having plans to meet up with Arthur and their old friend group every single weekend. And Steve was more than welcome to come, but he had already decided Merlin’s friends were.. what had he called them? A bunch of stunted men-children and a couple of women who didn’t have the dignity to avoid them. Merlin had stayed at Gwen and Morgana’s for a few nights after that jab because he couldn’t stand to look at Steve. He had almost broken up with him over that. Not so much the men-children bit, because the boys could get a bit laddish when they drank, but he had no business saying such terrible things about Morgana and Gwen.

But Steve had made a big show of apologizing like he always did and Merlin forgave him. Well, almost forgave him. The statement always floated around at the back of his mind whenever Steve was being particularly difficult, and though Merlin wasn’t one to stir up old arguments, he couldn’t bring himself to forget it.

 

He turned on to his side, reliving the night of the break up again.

“It’s not working,” Merlin said.

“It’s working fine, what’s not working is your little posse. Everything was fine until you started seeing them,” Steve said, but what he really meant was everything was fine until Arthur showed up. He had to have meant that, because Merlin had met with the others sporadically in the years before, but they saw each other much more frequently after Arthur came home.

“Well, I’m not going to stop talking to my _oldest friends_ just because you want me to, Steven,” Merlin bit back. “I’m not doing this anymore. You need to move out.”

Merlin almost said take as much time as you like, but he knew that would mean Steven spreading this out over a period of months so he said. “A month. You have a month to find a new place. I’m going to stay somewhere else until then.”

“You’re going to stay with _him,_ you mean,” Steve yelled, kicking the coffee table.

“With _who_? Don’t get violent, for fuckssake, be an adult.”

“Stupid fucking Arthur, who else!”

“Arthur doesn’t have a spare bedroom. I was going to ask the girls or my mum,” Merlin said, slowly.

“Oh, as if you need a spare bedroom. He’s just _waiting_ for me to be out of the way.”

“He’s not. And you realize I have agency over the situation, too, don’t you? I would have to want to be with him, too. People don’t just snap other people up when they’re single because they want to,” Merlin tried not to raise his voice, but it was getting harder and harder not to. “He’s my childhood best friend, Steven. We’re allowed to be close.”

Steve just stared at him.

“A month,” Merlin said when the silence got to be too much, and stood from the sofa where he was sat to go call Morgana.

“I love you. I’ll try to be better,” Steve said quietly behind him, grabbing his hand.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but that’s not enough anymore,” Merlin said, pulling his hand away quickly.

“Don’t you love me?”

“I used to think so. I really used to this so,” Merlin replied softly, and turned to go.

  


Four months later, Steve was still calling, trying to get Merlin to return his feelings. Four months later, Merlin was getting better at not taking all of his calls. He typically took the ones late at night, because he worried Steven was drunk or on something and would do something rash. But he was mostly always sober and mostly always fine.

 

Finally, Merlin got up for the day. He wasn’t looking forward at spending the day at his computer, trying to get work done on his book when he was this riled up about how _not_ over and done with this break up was. Maybe he would block Steven. Or he could just wait until Arthur made him do it.

  


***

 

The thing with working from home was consistency and compartmentalization. Get up at the same time, get dressed like you’re going to a proper job, only work in your designated work place, your “productivity space” as his mother called it. Merlin found it pretty easy, as most of his friends worked nine to five jobs anyway and he couldn’t really meet up with anyone during work hours, so he was forced to get work done during the work day and have fun during off hours.

The only thing that was getting him through this particular day, however, was not consistency nor compartmentalization, but rather was the promise of drinks later with Arthur. Arthur would listen to him whine, call him an idiot, then pick up the tab. The perfect Pendragon display of empathy.

Well, a male Pendragon display of empathy. Morgana, his sister, had a much more of a let’s buy an entire crate of cheap wine and drink it straight from the bottle on the living room floor while talking about how everyone in the world are giant assholes except us style of empathy. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

He got to the bar a few minutes late, as Arthur would inevitably be a few minutes later _._ Arthur had never really gotten the memo that the world did run on whatever concept of time he had developed, and Merlin had given up on trying to assimilate him. He already had a table and two beers when Arthur arrived, winded.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Arthur said, taking a sip of his beer before he even sat down.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re not,” Arthur mocked, sticking out his tongue, and Merlin was struck with a perfect image of the seven year old boy who would tug his ears and call him Dumbo. “So, I’ve come up with two solutions,” Arthur said, switching easily into business mode.

It was the way Merlin imagined he spoke at board meetings at PenTech, his father’s computer security software company. The leading computer security software company at that. It had come preinstalled on his own computer. Steven had tried to uninstall it when he found out who Arthur was.

“And what are they?”

“Well, option one, he gets blocked. Whether that is of your own volition or through force, that’s up to you.”

“Duh. Option two?”

“Next time he calls, you find out where he’s staying and I go over there and give him a talking to,” Arthur said, making a fist and bringing it to meet his other hand, smiling threateningly. This time, Merlin was struck with a memory of the eight year old boy who got himself suspended for decking another boy that tugged Merlin’s ear and called him Dumbo in the schoolyard. That move belonged solely to Arthur and he needed the world to know.

“You’re not fighting him, Arthur. We’re too old to get in first fights. Besides, I don’t think Steven knows how,” Merlin smiled.

“I’m not _too old_ for anything, yet,” Arthur pouted.

“Twenty-five is far too old for schoolyard style conflict solution, mate,” Merlin said.

“But I would really, really like to punch him. Just a little punch. Just once. Maybe twice. Please,” Arthur begged. “No more than three times.”

“It’s a definite no on that.”

“Fine,” Arthur said, grabbing Merlin’s phone from where it was set on the table. He tapped in the code, which reminded Merlin he should change it (he knew full well he wouldn’t). He went into Merlin’s texts, brought up the conversation with Steven, went into the contact information, and blocked him. “There. Interesting conversation by the way.”

Merlin didn’t even think Arthur had had time to read anything, he had done it all so fast. He handed the phone back to Merlin, who looked at the conversation. It was from about a week ago.

 

S: Why aren’t you answering my call?

M: I’m busy.

S: You’re with him aren’t you?

M: Who? Arthur?

S: Yes.

M: No, I’m working. But even if I was, it’s not your business. None of my life is your business anymore.

S: I don’t accept that.

S: Merlin?

S: Hello?

 

“Ugh. I had forgotten about that.”

“Why was he so worried that you were with me?” Arthur asked, sipping his beer.

“You know he doesn’t like you.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, he hates that you get to see me and he doesn’t.”

“Well, that’s because he’s an arsehole and I’m not,” Arthur said, looking rather smug.

“Debatable.”

“Oi!”

“Don’t worry, you’re the loveable kind, and he’s the insufferable kind. You know, even though I’m not sad about not being with him anymore, this is the worst break up I’ve ever had,” Merlin said. And he meant it.

 

Before Steven had been Alfy, the walking cliche who had left him for his secretary. Before him was Freya, who broke it off when she left to do zoological research in Alaska, which he didn’t hold against her. Before that was his first and only fling, an American boy named Emmett who he met while studying abroad in Italy. Then before that, when he was seventeen, there had been Will, who didn’t count. It was only one kiss, and Merlin hadn’t even wanted it. Will had surprised him with it one day when they were waiting for the bus after school. And before that there had been-

“Worse than ours?” Arthur asked, running his finger along the rim of his glass.

Merlin’s face twisted into a grimace, which must have looked like puzzlement to Arthur because he added, “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Arthur, don’t be idiotic, I could never forget. I just didn’t think we were ever official enough to call it a break up. It was more like a… Full stop,” Merlin said.

 

Before Will there was Arthur. Arthur was the first person he had ever kissed. Arthur was his first everything.

 

Arthur’s eyes widened, and Merlin realized he was genuinely shocked.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“You never asked me to be anything, and then one day you just stopped talking to me or returning my calls.”

“Because you kissed Will.”

“You saw that?” Merlin asked.

His stomach felt tight. He came out to feel better about his break up, not relive one he never knew he had.

“I was walking to the bus stop to see if I could come over, and there you were. Kissing him,” Arthur said, flatly.

“ _He_ kissed _me,”_ Merlin said.

“What?”

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t know he was going to. He kissed me, without asking. It only happened the once. I told him I wasn’t interested,” Merlin explained.

“Why not?”

“Because I liked someone else, you dolt,” Merlin said, exasperated.

“And that someone else was… Me?”

“Yes, unless I was shagging someone else in the backseat of your dad’s Jag,” Merlin replied.

“I don’t know, you could have been,” Arthur said, sheepishly.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Merlin said.

 

They had never brought it up. When Arthur had called him after moving back into town, Merlin had assumed it was water under the bridge. And when he heard Arthur’s voice on the phone, he knew he was willing to forgive the other man anything, because he had missed that voice painfully. He had resigned himself not to bring it up. It didn’t feel worth mentioning at the time anyway, seeing as he had been spoken for.

 

“I should have, uh, asked you about it, huh?” Arthur replied, leaning back in his seat.

“Yes. And you should have told me we were dating,” Merlin said, taking a long drink of his beer.

“If I had the balls to ask you out properly, you may have never been in this mess with Steven,” Arthur sighed.

“Why’s that? I think it would have been even worse. He would have lost his shit if he knew we’d ever been together. And if he had known you were my first? I’m pretty sure he’d have castrated you,” Merlin said.

“No, you wouldn’t have been in this mess because you’d still be with me,” Arthur said quietly.

“You think so?”

Merlin swallowed, his throat clicking. He needed another drink. Something harder. Maybe gasoline.

“I bet my life on it,” Arthur said.

 

Merlin laughed.

 

“He was always convinced that if I left him, I’d end up with you,” Merlin said, barely audible above the din of the bar.

“You never told me that.”

“Because I didn’t think it mattered. You never brought up all that, so I thought you didn’t want to acknowledge it,” Merlin said.

“I didn’t bring it up because it didn’t feel right to when you were with someone. Especially when..”

“Especially when what?”

“I thought I was over you. It was ancient history, after all. But the more time I spent around you, I realized I wasn’t over you at all. Not even a little bit,” Arthur admitted.

“Oh,” was all Merlin could manage.

“But I didn’t want to make this about that. I’m sorry, I should have just let it go. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Arthur said, standing and throwing down a wad of cash. “Listen, I should go. I’ll call Morgana to come meet you, she should be free. I’m sorry, I was being stupid. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The nervous panic in Arthur’s voice brought back another image of his younger self, a boy of fifteen who was trying to explain away the kiss he had just planted on Merlin’s lips. They were sitting on a bench in the park, out way past their curfews, talking about nothing, like they always did. Well, not nothing, Merlin was talking about an idea he had for a novel, the very same novel that ended up being the first one he ever published, and Arthur was listening intently as always, until he wasn’t. Until he was kissing Merlin, and then trying to convince them both that he hadn’t. It didn’t work. That kiss had somehow turned into two years of them being something they had never bothered to name. Something they had kept secret. Merlin had missed this version of that boy most of all.

“Arthur, wait, don’t be dense,” Merlin said, standing with the other man, reaching out to grab his arm. “It’s fine. We probably should talk about it. We’ve put it off long enough.”

“Eventually. But not tonight. Later,” Arthur said, shaking his arm from Merlin’s grip and reaching up to tug one of his ears, his eyes full of affection. Merlin realized Arthur hadn’t done that even once in the two years they’d been reconnected. He’d barely touched Merlin at all.

Merlin knew this was Arthur’s way of assuring him that everything was alright, that they would be alright, that he just needed to be alone for a second, or thought that Merlin did. Or maybe it meant something else. Either way, he wished Arthur had stayed. He must have been standing there for a few minutes before his phone began to buzz. Morgana.

“Why has Arthur called me to tell me you’re all alone in the Red Lion?” she asked, her voice concerned. He heard Gwen asking if he was alright in the background.

“Because he just left me here,” Merlin said.

“Why?” Morgana shouted, and Merlin had to hold the phone away from his ear.

“I think he’s freaking out,” Merlin explained. “We talked about why we didn’t speak for all that time.”

“Oh god. We’re coming,” Morgana sighed, hanging up.

  


Morgana and Gwen arrived fifteen minutes later, Morgana making a beeline for Merlin’s table and Gwen heading to the bar for drinks.

“The absolute idiot bringing that up right now when you’re in the middle of-“

“A break up I was hoping would have been dead in the ground by now,” Merlin finished. “I don’t mind that he brought it up. We need to talk about it. I don’t know if you know but-“

“Oh, we all knew,” Morgana rolled her eyes. “You two were all eyes for each other for years, you’d have to be the densest person in the world not to know you were head over heels in love with each other.”

“We weren’t in love, we were just together is all,” Merlin explained.

“Don’t tell me you believe that,” Gwen said, sitting down next to Merlin, handing them each a drink.

“We never said it,” Merlin said, half heartedly.

“You don’t have to say something for it to be true, babe,” Morgana replied.

“He still feels that way,” Merlin said, staring at the untouched drink in his hands.

“We know,” Morgana and Gwen said at the same time.

“He told you?”

“He didn’t have to,” Gwen said.

Merlin groaned.

“Steve thought… Steven always said Arthur was trying to steal me away from him,” Merlin said.

“He definitely wasn’t. Arthur isn’t a slime ball. He would never have tried to get between you,” Morgana said.

“I know that,” Merlin said. “He said if we had been more clear about our feelings back then that we’d still be together, though.”

“Do you think he’s right?” Gwen asked, placing a hand over Merlin’s on the table.

 

Merlin closed his eyes. He was thrown back into the nights they spend together when they were young, nights spent kissing until their lips were sore on the couch in the media room. Sleepovers spent giggling in Merlin’s bed, feeling as though they had beat the system because their parents would never suspect what they were getting up to. Taking Arthur’s dad’s car to the movies and never buying a ticket, and sitting in the parking lot, hoping no one would come up and knock on the fogged up window. Then there were the nights where they were quiet, Arthur tracing Merlin’s lips, his nose, his brow bone, his jaw with a feather light touch, trying to memorize a face he already knew so well. No one had touched him like that since, with such reverence. And no one ever tugged his overlarge ears and called him Dumbo.

 

“Merlin?” Morgana prompted.

“Yes,” Merlin answered, finally, opening his eyes. “But there’s no chance now.”

“Why the hell not?” Morgana asked, scowling.

“Because Steven will think he was right. He’ll think I was emotionally unfaithful to him,” Merlin said.

“Fuck Steven, Merlin. He’s out of your life. Besides, you weren’t, were you?”

“I didn’t leave him for Arthur if that’s what you mean.”

“Obviously,” Gwen said, squeezing Merlin’s hand.

“And you would have left him if Arthur never came back,” Morgana said.

“Yes. He was toxic. Clearly, since he didn’t trust me with my best friend. I mean, maybe he would have had a right to, if he had known about our past, but-“

“He would have fixated on someone else if it wasn’t Arthur, Merlin. He wanted to own you,” Gwen said, with a bluntness that was uncharacteristic.

“Besides, no one is saying you should run over to Arthur’s and _shag_ him tonight,” Morgana said, a disgusted shiver running through her body at saying that word in association with her brother. “We’re just saying maybe it’s something to think about. You and him, again.”

“It seems like it definitely is,” Merlin agreed.

“Then think about it. Now, who wants to get pissed and tear down this fucking pub?” Morgana asked, raising her beer in the air and proceeding to knock it back in one gulp.

Merlin raises his glass in response and did the same. This wasn’t a good night to be sober.

  


****

Consistency went out the window when Merlin spent the night out with the girls. Getting up at seven after drinking himself under the table was down right masochist. He hadn’t even bothered to set an alarm. He awoke at noon to a hangover that would last well into the evening and a text from Arthur.

 

A: Did you survive? I heard you got sloppy drunk.

 

Merlin smiled. It was just like Arthur to act as though he had no part in it. Merlin was starting to realize he rather adored things that were just like Arthur to do.

 

M: Can you text from the afterlife?

A: HE LIVES.

M: barely.

A: I have meetings late tonight but RL tomorrow?

M: Seven?

A: You read my mind.

 

Merlin wished he could. Apparently Arthur was an open book to everyone but him. He must have been to wrapped up in the shitstorm that was Steven to see the signs. Even Steven saw them, though he was a paranoid, possessive prat.

 

There was no hope of getting any work done on his book in the state he was in, so he decided to give himself a midweek holiday. Instead, he drank about a liter of sports drink, was sick twice, and thought about Arthur.

 

Arthur, who was the first person he texted every morning within a week of reentering his life. Arthur, who always replied quickly, even when he was in meetings. Arthur, who always offered up his place as refuge when Steven started some new baseless argument. Arthur, who always said “Stay here, I can sleep on the couch.”

 

He had always said no. He didn’t know why. Not until now. He knew it was unwise to be that close and alone with Arthur, especially towards the end. Not when things had never really ended between them. Not officially. Just like they had never officially started. Nothing would have felt as good as settling into the spot next to Arthur that he had lived in for two years, the spot that he had never really given up his claim to. Not willingly.

 

He had been angry when Arthur had stopped talking to him. He had always assumed he got scared or realized he didn’t like boys that way, or found someone better. He had cried until he could barely open his eyes. His mother had comforted him, thinking he had lost a best friend and not something that was so much more. He had lost his first love. Maybe the only real love he had ever had.

 

Still he couldn’t stand the idea of how smug Steven would be if he found out, the look of _I told you so_ he would give him. Gwen was right, it wasn’t his business, but he would find out eventually, and Merlin thought he would very nearly be happy about it. Be happy because he thought he was right.

 

But he wasn’t. The thought of being with Arthur as anything more than a friend hadn’t crossed his mind when he was with Steven. He just didn’t want to be with Steve.

 

And he didn’t want Arthur to be a rebound. He wasn’t sure he could be, because he wasn’t sad or lonely or needing to fill a hole that Steven had left in his life. He was quite happy to be single, if it meant he wasn’t stuck in that situation.

 

When Merlin fell back into bed that night, hangover just beginning to wane, he knew what he wanted. All roads lead to one conclusion. All roads lead here.

 

***

“Sorry I’m late,” Arthur said, sliding into the booth Merlin had been lucky enough to snag.

“No, you’re not,” Merlin replied.

“No, you’re not,” Arthur mocked.

Merlin smiled.

“So,” Merlin began, as Arthur took a sip of the wine Merlin had ordered for him, red and the most expensive on the menu, which also happened to be his favorite because _of course_ it was, “You’re right.”

“I am, unerringly, but what about this time?”

“We’d still be together, if we hadn’t been so emotionally constipated when we were teenagers,” Merlin replied, and Arthur choked on his wine.

“So we’re not going to ease into that conversation then,” Arthur said, setting down his glass.

“We’ve been easing into it for seven years. A few more minutes wouldn’t have helped,” Merlin said.

“Right,” Arthur said, loosening his tie. “Well, I’m glad we agree.”

“I thought maybe we could give it a proper go,” Merlin continued.

Arthur choked again, this time on air.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming,” Merlin laughed.

“I did, but maybe a year or two down the line. Maybe after a few more partners that didn’t go so well.”

“And what, I’d settle for you when I decided I couldn’t find someone better?”

“Something like that,” Arthur shrugged shyly.

“Arthur, no one could be with you and call it settling,” Merlin said softly, leaning back into his seat.

“What would they call it, then? Being with me?” Arthur replied.

“For anyone else? Lucky,” Merlin said.

“But what would you call it? For you?” Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows on the able.

“Probably fate,” Merlin said.

Arthur wrinkled his nose.

“That’s pretty cheesy,” Arthur said, not meeting Merlin’s eyes.

“It’s also pretty true,” Merlin said. “Nothing has ever compared to us.”

“It might be disappointing. We were all hopped up on hormones and the newness of it all. It might not be the same,” Arthur replied.

“You dolt, it already is the same,” Merlin replied.

“It is?”

“This is how it started, isn’t it? Best friends. That part doesn’t feel any different,” Merlin said.

“That’s different,” Arthur said. “Best friends is different.”

“Hardly. All that’s missing is the kissing,” Merlin said.

“And my father’s Jag,” Arthur joked.

“So what do you say, Arthur? We try it again, but this time officially. Labels and anniversaries and dinner dates where I inevitably burn the food and you already have take away on the way as back up. How’s that sound?” Merlin asked.

Arthur studied him. He drew in a deep breath and said, “Lovely. It sounds absolutely lovely.”

“Good,” Merlin sighed.

“My dad still has the Jag if you want to-“

“Absolutely not,” Merlin laughed.

Arthur held up his hands in defense.

“Pig,” Merlin added.

“You seemed rather keen on it then,” Arthur said, taking up his wine again, bracing one hand on the table as he finished it off.

Merlin reached across the table, tracing along the back of Arthur’s hand.

“I was keen on _you_. Where ever I could get you,” he replied.

Arthur shivered at Merlin’s words. He turned his hand over and took Merlin’s.

“I’ve missed this,” he said. “Touching you.”

“You’re that starved for contact?” Merlin joked.

“Oh, no, I’ve had plenty of _contact,_ Merlin,” Arthur said. “But what I wanted was you.”

Merlin smiled.

“So fate, huh?” Arthur asked, placing his other hand over the ones they had clasped together.

“I think so,” Merlin said.

 

It had to be.

  


****

 

“You come here often?” a voice came from behind Merlin as he stared at a pile of sweet potatoes in the produce section, knowing full well they’d go off before they’d have a chance to eat them if he bought them.

A smile spread across his face as he turned to face the man behind him.

“Once a week, about,” he replied.

“Can I take you home?”

“I hope so, given that you drove me here,” Merlin said, leaning in to kiss Arthur on the cheek.

“I got the essentials,” Arthur said, throwing a carton of mint chocolate ice cream and a packet of haribos into the trolley.

“I don’t understand how you survived so long without me around to force you to eat vegetables,” Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Sheer willpower,” Arthur replied, reaching out to touch Merlin’s ear gently, a move Merlin had privately come to call Arthur’s silent ‘I love you.’

They’d been together for a year and a half and Arthur still managed to make him feel like the only other person in the grocery store. Although, when he thought about it, he wasn’t sure that was any sort of feat. The only other person in the world, then. That was far more romantic.

“Alright, so what are we going to set on fire this week?” Arthur asked, dragging the trolley towards the grain and noodle aisle. “Spaghetti?”

“No, we set that on fire last week, remember?”

 

The pot was still wedged in the bin at home, the noodles permanently stuck to the bottom. Neither of them could cook for shit, but they continued to try out of pure stubbornness.

 

“Right. Ravioli? I don’t think we’ve burned ravioli yet. Might be fun. Maybe they’ll pop like popcorn,” Arthur said, holding a packet in his hand.

“I don’t think that’s what will happen,” Merlin laughed.

“Ah! Challenging my hypothesis, are you? Looks like we’ll have to experiment, then. Uphold the scientific method,” Arthur decided, throwing them in with the rest of their haul.

“What about the night we’re having Morgana and Gwen over?” Merlin asked.

“She said if we don’t order takeaway, she’ll call the police and report us for assault and battery,” Arthur said, dragging the trolley towards the check out.

“Good call,” Merlin replied.

Merlin watched as Arthur unloaded the groceries onto the conveyor belt, smiling to himself. He was having fun at the _grocery store_ with his _boyfriend_. He was always struck with wonder at this, how any terrible, mundane chore was fun now that Arthur was a part of it, how even though they had a routine, he wasn’t bored out of his mind. He didn’t think it was possible, but here he was, living proof.

“You going to help or you enjoying the view too much?” Arthur asked over his shoulder.

“Oh, you know how sexy I think it is when you do heavy lifting,” Merlin quipped as Arthur took a singular onion out of the trolley.

“If you think this is impressive, I’ll have you know I can lift at _least_ three more of these at once,” Arthur said, flexing his arms.

“Hot,” Merlin said, struggling to stay deadpan.

 

The cashier rolled her eyes.

“Loyalty card?” she asked.

“Merlin, do you have-“ Merlin handed it to Arthur before he could finish the sentence. “He does have,” Arthur said, smiling at the cashier as he handed it to her.

 

A few minutes later, they were in the car park, weighed down with bags, trekking out to the far side of the lot where Arthur always insisted on parking.

“No one parks this far away, Arthur,” Merlin had said the first time they’d gone shopping together.

“Exactly. Then no one can ding it or bump it with their doors or-“

“Breathe on it wrong, I get it,” Merlin had said, and proceeded to make fun of Arthur for it ever since.

 

They made it out to their car, alone apart from one other about four spaces over, and began loading in the bags.

 

Merlin noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and saw that someone was getting out of the car closest to them, which would have been completely fine if it hadn’t have been Steven. He made eye contact and looked away as quickly as possible, handing Arthur his bag.

 

“Merlin!”

He didn’t sound angry, but Merlin didn’t respond right away.

“Merlin!” Steve said again, closer this time.

Merlin turned, forcing a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen Steven since about a month before he’d blocked his number and had no idea if he’d try to get in touch since, but it was bound to happen eventually.

“Oh, hey Steve,” Merlin said pleasantly, his eyes darting to Arthur, who was still leaning halfway into the boot, making sure there wasn’t even the slightest chance of the milk falling over and spilling and messing up his upholstery.

“You look great!” Steve said warmly. He glanced quickly at what he could see of Arthur. “How have you been?”

“Great! In the editing phase of my latest work. You?” Merlin asked.

“Same old, same old,” Steve shrugged.

Arthur finally emerged from the boot, turning around to face both Merlin and Steven.

“Oh, Steve, you remember Arthur,” Merlin said, trying a bit too hard not to sound anxious, speaking too quickly.

Steve visibly tensed.

“Oh. Yes. Hello,” Steve said, eyeing Arthur with a certain degree of distaste.

Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder as he spoke.

“Hiya, Steven,” he said, sunnily. “Ice creams melting, love,” he said to Merlin before letting his hand fall and going to get into the car, leaving Merlin and Steven alone. Merlin had to fight a laugh. Arthur never called him ‘love,’ he never called him anything but Merlin, or idiot on special occasions. This small act of pettiness was somewhat funny, coming from Arthur.

“So, you and him, then?” Steve said, much more composed than Merlin expected.

“Me and him,” Merlin nodded.

“When’s that start?”

“The first time, or this time?” Merlin said, in spite of his better judgement.

“First time?” Steven asked, tilting his head to one side.

“Arthur was my first boyfriend. When I was fifteen” Merlin replied.

“I _knew_ -“ Steven began, but cut himself off, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t like that. We got together this time nearly five months after you and I broke it off,” Merlin said.

Steven took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a ten count, then said, “I hope you two are happy, then.”

“We are. Very,” Merlin sad.

“Well, best of luck to you both,” Steven said, turning to walk toward the store.

“Thanks,” Merlin said, genuinely surprised at Steven’s behavior. “You, too.”

 

“That didn’t seem so bad,” Arthur said as Merlin hopped in the passenger seat.

“It wasn’t, shockingly,” Merlin replied.

“I almost wish he’d been terrible, though,” Arthur said, starting the car. “I would still really like to punch him.”

“Thank you for controlling yourself, _love_ ,” Merlin said, putting his hand on Arthur’s knee.

Arthur leaned over the center console before taking the car out of park and kissed the corner of Merlin’s mouth.

“No problem. In a weird way, I’m thankful for him. If he hadn’t have been so terrible, I may have spent years trying to figure out how to tell you how I felt instead of just letting it slip,” Arthur said.

 

Arthur was right, as per usual. Merlin was so fucking thankful for his exes. Especially the one sat next to him, wasn’t so ex anymore.


End file.
